


Can't Fool Me With The Truth

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Five times Madara does not see Tobirama pouting - and then one time that he does.





	Can't Fool Me With The Truth

i.

“I have seen the face of God and it was both pitiful and  _adorable_.” 

Madara looked up in surprise as his brother staggered in to the room with a dazed look on his face. Last he’d heard, Izuna had been over to visit Tobirama and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to ask what the hell could have encouraged such a statement. The entire village knew better than to ask what went on inside Tobirama’s laboratories. 

With a frown, he decided it was safer to just say nothing and duck his head back in to the book he had been reading. Leisure time was hard to come by and he wasn’t about to let Izuna being weird ruin the first hour he’d gotten to himself all week. 

Unfortunately Izuna didn’t seem to pick up on his unwelcoming vibes as the younger man wandered over and flopped down on the floor in front of him, nuzzling his head in to Madara’s lap. Rolling his eyes, yet unable to resist, Madara stroked his fingers gently over long dark hair. He still kept his eyes on his book though. Maybe if he just stayed quiet then he wouldn’t be disturbed further with strange exclamations about the face of God. 

“It was  _cute_ ,” Izuna moaned suddenly. “What do I do with that? I have no defense against that. I had no idea.” Madara sighed and let his book flop down on the crown of the younger man’s head. 

“Am I going to regret asking? If this is about Touka again then I want to hear nothing more about it.”

“Shamed as I am to admit it, this exceeds even Touka’s level of adorableness.”

Madara sat up a little straighter and moved his novel aside. “Are you feeling alright!?” he demanded. Izuna pushed himself upright in to a kneeling position, hands on his elder brother’s knees and eyes wide as they look up at him in supplication. 

“It was Tobirama! Sage help me but he  _pouted_  and I...brother I...have no words. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Madara growled. “This is what has you so flustered? What nonsense!” He made as though to shove his sibling aside but Izuna caught both of his hands and stared, something wild in his expression and every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. He looked almost fanatic. 

“No, you don’t understand! It’s the truth!”

“Ugh.”

With a disgusted expression on his face Madara stood and wrenched himself out of Izuna’s hold. He’d just known that he would regret allowing himself to be dragged in to such nonsense, wasting his precious downtime on idiotic blather about Tobirama doing something as ridiculous as pouting. Senju Tobirama, the stuck up prick that he was, had too much dignity to lower himself to pouting. Madara wasn’t sure what Izuna was up to by trying to convince him it was true but he could smell a practical joke coming a mile away. Not a chance was he going to get caught in this one.

No, instead he left his sniveling little sibling alone in the living room and retired to the back porch instead. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he sat down on the padded bench just outside the door, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply. Much better. This was just the kind of relaxing environment he needed today. Hopefully by the time he went back inside to make dinner Izuna would have given up on whatever game he was playing. 

 

ii.

Seeing Hashirama waltz out of his bedroom with a face like he had only just discovered puberty in the last five minutes was a much more common experience than Madara liked to think about when he came round for a visit. His best friend wasn’t exactly subtle about his overactive sex life, much to Madara chagrin. 

No, thank you very much, he was not at all jealous. 

Seeing Mito float from one room to another in nearly the same state was much more rare. In fact, Madara was hard pressed to think of a single instance he had seen the normally poised woman in such a deconstructed state. Her eyes were wide, her features slack, and both of her hands were clutched to her breast as though to hold her heart in place. 

“Mito?” he called tentatively. “Are you alright? Where is Hashirama?” Rather than reply to his questions, she spoke as though to the empty air in front of her. 

“I didn’t know...I hardly expected...I could never have imagined. Hashi was right, there really is nothing like it. Goodness me...”

“Uh...alright then.”

Stretching his senses, Madara determined that Hashirama was a few streets away, accompanied by his sibling. The two of them were heading away despite the fact that obviously they were needed here instead. Whatever could put Mito, of all people, in a state like this must have been momentous indeed. It looked like it was up to him to comfort her or whatever it was that she needed.

“Mito, can you hear me?” he asked. Her eyes snapped over to his and she reached out across the space between them. 

“Have you ever seen it?” she demanded. 

“Seen what?”

“The pout! Tobirama’s pout! I had no idea! Hashirama told me but no words could do it justice! I just wasn’t prepared. It was only for a moment but I...I think I just had a religious experience.” 

“Are...you serious?”

On shaky legs Mito made her way to the closest chair, sinking down in to it with none of her usual grace. Madara watched her with all the worry rapidly draining from his body. It had been a month since Izuna had come home rambling about something to do with Tobirama and pouting and their reactions were both eerily similar. Was it possible that somehow Izuna had convinced Mito to join him in playing this practical joke? 

Well he still wasn’t going to be fooled by it! He refused to believe Tobirama was even capable of jutting that stiff lip of his out in any manner which might even come close to resembling cute. Sure he was attractive, Madara could admit that in a distant, unbiased way. And sure Hashirama had been waxing poetic for years now about how adorable his baby brother was to any poor sod he could trap in to listening. But that was just the opinion of an empty-headed buffoon who still needed his wife to tie his obi sometimes. His opinion didn’t count for much in Madara’s books, best friend or not. 

“You absolutely must see it,” Mito told him in a dreamy voice. Madara sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“For a moment I thought something was actually wrong. Here I was about to fetch back your husband and then you start spouting this drivel. Well I won’t have it. You can both go rot, you and Izuna, and see if I care!” 

His hair flared out with a rather nice dramatic touch as he spun around and stomped towards the door. Rather than be impressed by his display, Mito only sighed dreamily and slid further down in to her chair, her words only just reaching his ears as he marched out the door.

“So adorable...”

Madara wrinkled his nose and slammed the front door behind himself. He had much more important things to do with his time than be taken in for a fool. 

 

iii.

If there was anyone in the village he could count on to be sensible and down to earth about the things that mattered, it was Senju Touka. They weren’t particularly fond of each other but they did work well together whenever they had been forced to work on the same project or run the same mission together. When a conflict popped up in the scheduling for the village patrols, Madara’s first thought was to go to Touka and ask her to stand in until he could replace the man who had been injured.

Sensible was not the word he would have used to describe the woman he found sitting on her front porch watching her youngest cousin storm away from her in a huff. Madara took a moment to observe the tenseness in Tobirama’s back – determinedly not looking at any other parts of him – and concluded that they must have fought. Or perhaps, considering Touka’s lack of angry screeching, she had insulted him in some manner. 

Whatever the case, he didn’t particularly care about their petty family dramas. He routinely got enough of that at home with Izuna so he most certainly didn’t need to be dragged in to any more. 

“Your skills are needed,” he announced without preamble, being sure not to word his sentence as though asking her a favor. She didn’t appear to hear him.

“I know I upset him,” she mumbled, “but he didn’t have to do _that_.”

“Who did what?”

“You kind of forget, you know? Every time. It’s always like ‘oh it couldn’t possibly be as cute as I remember’ and then he does it and bam!”

Narrowing his eyes, Madara gave Touka a wary look. Several weeks had gone by since he’d experienced a similar episode with Mito and he was honestly beginning to believe that it was a conspiracy between them all, an attempt to make him look foolish somehow. He wasn’t sure how they intended to do so when he was obviously too smart to fall for their idiocy but it appeared that whoever all were in on this bad joke were not giving up.

Fuming in silence did nothing to help him seem unaffected, however, and so he set his hands on his hips and attempted to settle his features in to a blank, even slightly bored expression. No need to let them know their little prank was actually getting to him in any way.

“Let me guess, Tobirama?” he drawled.

“You’ve seen it then?” Touka’s shoulders lifted and dropped in a heavy sigh, a dreamy look taking over. “I just wasn’t ready. Of course, no one is ever ready. And I don’t think he even know what kind of effect he has; how unfair is that? He just gets upset and pouts and then the whole world melts at his feet and this isn’t _fair_ damn it! I’m over thirty years old, I shouldn’t still be this weak to him!”

“Do you know how ridiculous this all is?”

“Right!? Extremely ridiculous! I mean come on, it’s me! I don’t find _anything_ cute so why the hell can’t I resist him when he all he’s doing is making his eyes wider and…and the lip…so cute…”

As Touka slipped even father in to what he assumed to be fabricated daydreams, Madara harrumphed and spun on his heel. Listening to this wasn’t worth the trouble at all. There were plenty of other shinobi he could ask to fill in for the injured guard, it didn’t have to be her even though he would have preferred it to be. Say what you like about Touka – and he usually did – she was an intimidating woman, excellent guard material.

Madara left her behind on her porch to sigh at the empty air and he hoped that she felt as silly as she looked because this entire game that they were all playing was just plain stupid. He stomped his way through the village towards home, all the while trying to hold back the scowl he could feel trying to take over his face. The farther he walked the harder it was until, by the time he walked through his front door, all the muscles around his mouth were twitching and his lips were peeling back in a grimace of determination.

Seeing Izuna at the kitchen table with all of his weapons spread out for cleaning broke his resolve.

“You conniving, twisted, annoying little shit!” he exploded, swatting his brother on the back of the head as he strode passed. Izuna snorted a tiny bit in surprise before looking up at him in consternation.

“What did I do?” he said.

“You know exactly what you did!”

Before Izuna could say anything else Madara had stormed down the hallway and slammed the door of his bedroom, locking himself inside his own private sanctuary. No one could bother him here. In here there were no weird plots to pull strange pranks on him that he didn’t understand. Here was peace and quiet and a nice soft bed for him to flop down on to and close his eyes, letting his mind wander wherever it would.

Evidently his mind didn’t feel like wandering far from the subject he’d been trying to escape. So many people seemed to be trying to trick him in to thinking Tobirama had pouted at them and that it could possibly be so cute that they were forever changed by the image. Now he couldn’t help but try and picture it for himself as he lay on his belly with his cheek resting on the soft pillow, body slowly releasing the tension which had built over the course of a much-too-long day.

And why shouldn’t he think about Tobirama, he thought to himself. It was his mind, he could imagine whatever he liked. Feeling almost defiant, as though Izuna were going to burst in to the room at any moment and laugh at him for falling in to their trap, Madara brought up an image of Tobirama in his mind’s eye. He tried to picture what it would look like if he pushed his lower lip out and scrunched his eyebrows up like a child making a sad puppy face. Honestly it seemed as though Tobirama would look ridiculous and that only confirmed for him that everyone else must be pulling his leg. It seemed the best thing to do would be to put the issue aside and just try not to let it bother him.

Just as he began to weigh the merits of a nap, however, Madara rolled over and flew upright with a curse. In his irritation he had entirely forgotten he was supposed to be replacing those guard shifts!

 

iv.

Several months went by without further mention of the weird madness his brother had started, for which Madara was incredibly glad. He found himself more and more distracted by the strangest things about Tobirama and he really didn’t need anyone else adding to his confusion. What purpose did it serve for him to notice the way the younger man held his shoulders or the exact tone of his voice as delivered the final quip in yet another of their verbal spars? So many tiny details that he’d never paid much attention to now stuck out as though they meant something. He could hardly fathom what that something might be.

Madara had only just resolved to force himself to stop thinking of that Senju bastard when, of course, everyone’s favorite prank finally resurfaced.

Delivering reports to Hashirama was never done with a quick getaway but he hardly expected to be bowled sideways in an overenthusiastic hug the very moment he stepped through the door to his friend’s office. It took several moments of shouting and quite a bit of ungraceful squirming for him to work his way loose. Hashirama refused to repent, beaming down at him with that vapid smile which usually meant he’d gotten excellent news.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from the Aburame clan?” he guessed. Hashirama shook his head before floating over to the window, gazing outside with a bright expression.

“Not yet,” he replied dreamily. Madara frowned.

“Well what is it then?” He’d always hated being left out of the loop and it was always the worst when it was Hashirama who knew something he didn’t. Getting information out of this log was such torture sometimes.

Swanning over to his desk and dropping in to his seat, Hashirama sighed. “I just love my baby brother so much. Don’t you love him?”

“I have my own little brother to love,” Madara grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Yours is – yours is gross!”

“He’s not gross! He’s adorable! Oh Madara you should have seen! It’s been so many years but I knew I would see it again someday. Nothing in this world compares to my little Tobi pouting!”

“Ugh! Not this _again_!”

“Whaaaat? You never let me talk about my brother Madara; you’re so mean!” Hashirama stuck his nose in the air but his grin only faded for a moment before returning in full force. “I think he’s adorable and that’s that. Just because you’re a grump and refuse to open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you doesn’t mean I have to be blind and grumpy too.”

Madara sneered at his friend and marched forward to drop off the file he had brought with him. “I have no idea what the lot of you are trying to accomplish with this charade, especially since I am not falling for it!”

Hashirama blinked at him in confusion but he didn’t stop to hear any false exclamations of innocence. Instead he stormed back out in to the hallway, unable to even enjoy the fact that this was the fastest he had ever escaped any trip in to the Hokage’s office. In his poor temper he failed to pay attention to his surroundings or even listen to what his senses were trying to tell him. If he had then he wouldn’t have nearly crashed in to the very man who seemed to be the focus of a village wide joke which made no sense.

Tobirama tilted his head with a gentle smirk, needing no words to make it known that he found Madara’s lack of coordination amusing. In return, Madara snarled and threw both of his hands up in the air.

“Well you’re not that adorable to _me_!” he cried. Tobirama made a sound of confusion that was eerily similar to his brothers but Madara didn’t stop to listen to it. He had no time for explanations. It was starting to look like he had signed off on his sanity the day he formally agreed to build this village. Knowing that he had dug his own grave was no comfort.

And it helped nothing that he spent the rest of the day remembering the exact angle at which Tobirama had tilted his head to express his confusion for Madara’s outburst. His opinions on the Senju’s attractiveness were getting less and less objective as this strange business tricked him in to thinking about Tobirama more and more. Nothing good could come of this, he was certain.

 

v.

Barely a few days went by before Madara encountered the same old nonsense yet again and they were not restful days at all. He found his thoughts turning to a certain someone much more frequently than he was comfortable with. Daydreaming had never really been something which took up a lot of his time and yet suddenly he found himself drifting away from reality at least once a day, only to come crashing back down to earth when he realized he was yet again contemplating certain angles of sunlight on white hair, the perfect tilt of thin pink lips, deep laughter coming out in a surprised rush whenever Hashirama startled them all with a joke that was actually funny.

He didn’t _need_ these thoughts in his head, damn it! Spending time thinking about this stuff made it feel as though he were developing something ridiculous like feelings or whatever. Madara knew that couldn’t be the case but it was still a worrisome development. What if someone else made that assumption?

Irritated, distracted, and confused as to what his brain thought it was doing, Madara spent half a week stomping around the village and his home before deciding that the best thing to do would be to work out his aggression with a good spar. Training alone just wasn’t the same as battling against someone else, not even against his own clones. With a perfect copy of himself, it was easy to predict how his opponent would react to something and he always felt as though he’d gotten less training out of the session.

Finding a sparring partner, however, turned out to be a bit more trouble than he expected. Hashirama was bogged down by paperwork and an unusually cranky Mito politely demanding that he spend more time at home. Izuna was out of the village on a two week undercover mission somewhere in Stone territory, not due home for another week at the least. The last time he had clashed with Touka on the training fields he had won but it came at the cost of three senbon in his left shoulder, his favorite training pants singed at the hem, and both ears flushed red from listening to the crass taunts meant to throw him off his game.

Under no circumstances would he be asking Tobirama to spar with him at the moment.

With no other options, Madara combed through the Uchiha district until he had located his last surviving cousin and the only other person he could think of who might be able to deal with his current skittish temper. He found Hikaku in the market strip, wandering aimlessly down the street with a blush on his cheeks and a look in his eyes as though he were having an out of body experience. Rather than pretending he was at all in the mood to be curious, Madara stomped up in front of the younger man with both hands on his hips.

“Fight me.”

“Oh…Madara-sama…”

“I need a sparring partner. Fight me. Now. Get a weapon and meet me at training ground six.”

Hikaku nodded slowly but it was obvious that not a single word had actually made it through his ears. From up close Madara could see now that he was wearing the faintest of smiles, dreamily staring off in to nothing as he let slip a happy little sigh that sounded much too familiar.

“I think I’m in love,” he murmured, sounding very much as though he had slid straight back in to adolescence, and Madara felt a wave of relief go through him.

“Thank god. For a moment I thought you’d gotten involved in the same madness as everyone else.” An evil grin took over his face and he took his hands off his hips to rub them together in anticipation, gearing up for a good bout of teasing. It’d been ages since he’d had anything good to rib his cousin about. “So? Who is it?”

Still entirely spaced out, Hikaku sighed again. “Tobirama.”

Madara felt his entire face twitch. Something nasty rose up inside his chest and he only just barely managed to bite off an angry demand that the other back off. Instead he emitted a wordless noise of rage, fingers clenching against each other.

“ _What_.”

“I just…he’s always been pretty, you know? But then I saw it. I never thought a grown man could be so adorable when they pouted but then he did it and everything I ever knew has changed. I’m in love. I have to marry him.”

“You will do no such thing!” Madara heaved for breath through his nose. “Ugh. I thought I escaped this. Don’t be an idiot Hikaku; you’re much too sensible to take part in this flim-flammery.”

“But you don’t understand! You didn’t see it. Or have you seen it? No, if you had then you would know because I don’t think I’ll ever forget. It was incredible…I’m in love…”

“Yes, I do believe you’ve mentioned that,” Madara sneered.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up, he turned away without another word. It looked like he was going to have to resort to sparring with his clones again after all because he certainly wasn’t going to waste his time playing along with the world’s stupidest ongoing prank. Not him. Madara wasn’t sure what it was that convinced them all to think him so gullible as to fall for the same trick if they only played it on him enough times. He was hardly that easy to play.

As he stormed off and left Hikaku to continue wandering the market strip alone, Madara wondered if Tobirama was even aware he was being used as the subject of a practical joke that wasn’t even funny – wasn’t even cruel. It was all just stupid. Would Tobirama be upset, he wondered, to have his name used in such a way?

Perhaps Madara should speak to him and let _him_ sort this entire mess out. Then maybe he would finally have some peace and quiet.

 

+1

Sent out to quell a disturbance in one of the nearby villages only the very next day, speaking with Tobirama entirely slipped his mind once he got back, covered head to toe with soot and honey and refusing to answer any questions as to how such a thing came to pass. He spent three days getting the awful sticky mess out of his hair and by the time he was fit to be seen in public once more, the only thing on his mind was seeking revenge against Hashirama for sending him on the mission and causing him to go through that.

A couple of weeks passed and Madara woke up one morning to find two figures on his doorstep, neither of whom he wished to deal with before the sun had even risen entirely. Kagami was much too bouncy to deal with at the best of times and Tobirama he would have preferred to avoid altogether for reasons he would rather not discuss with the man himself.

He couldn’t very well slam the door in their faces, however. At least, not if he wished to avoid yet another lecture from Hashirama about how to properly interact with other human beings. So when he invited the both of them in for morning tea it seemed to fit his wary mood when the two shared a devious smile. Obviously they were up to something – and just as obviously he was going to regret his attempts at being polite.

“Kagami-kun tells me that the Uchiha have rather strict regulations on who can leave the village at any given time. Something about precautions to protect the bloodlines.” Tobirama looked pretty snug where he had settled himself on a stool at Madara’s breakfast nook, swirling a spoon through his tea to stir the remains after he’d nearly drained the cup in one go.

“Yes, well, it was a better solution than those barbaric Hyuga came up with,” Madara said. He half expected Tobirama to snort as he always did when reminded of the rivalry between the two ocular-focused clans. Instead he was surprised by a slight head tilt as Tobirama conceded his point.

“Fair enough,” was all he said on the matter. “Then it is indeed you that I need permission from to take him out of the village? I was hoping to take our team on a little excursion.”

“Survival training, Madara-sama! How cool is that!?”

Kagami was nearly vibrating in his seat; likely he would have been bouncing freely about the room if not for the pressure of Tobirama’s hand patting him on the top of his head. Evidently the man knew his student well enough to sit next to him for restraining purposes, which Madara appreciated. He wasn’t awake enough for child-wrangling.

“Other than the move from our ancestral lands to the village, Kagami has never been outside the walls of protection. He’s a rambunctious child and, while I’m aware you have a great deal of experience dealing with children, the very idea of having only one adult around him in such a new environment…concerns me.”

“I’m not that bad!” Kagami made as though to rise up with indignation but withered immediately when Madara fixed him with a raised eyebrow.

“You fell in to three separate rivers on the move here and there was an entire clan of adults about to supervise you.”

Before either of them could work themselves up for an argument, as was wont to happen when more than one Uchiha gathered in the same room, Tobirama gently shook his head and threw him arm over Kagami’s shoulders, drawing the boy close. He bent himself down low until his chin rested amongst soft black curls and widened his eyes with false innocence.

“Come now, you know very well that I am perfectly capable of watching him. What if we asked very, very nicely?”

They had obviously planned their next move and Madara was entirely unprepared for it. In sync the two of them pushed out their lower lips and fluttered their eyes in an exaggerated pleading manner. Just the sight of them together was like a punch to the gut. Kagami on his own was a master of making puppy eyes but Tobirama…Madara fought not to clutch at his chest. He pleaded silently for the mother of chakra to preserve him as his heart began to pound and his pulse jumped.

But he could stay strong! He was a battle worn warrior and he absolutely could stand firm even in the face of something as overwhelmingly cute as the image before him. He was far from beaten by such an underhanded tactic.

“I’m not convinced that it’s a good idea. Kagami needs to learn a little more control and discipline.”

“But I am disciplined!” Kagami protested. “Come watch us train, Madara-sama, you’ll see!”

“No. I’m afraid my answer is no.”

Madara crossed his arms, feeling a little as though his proverbial feathers had been rustled. He was the head of the clan, damn it. No child should be questioning his decisions. What he said was the law, just as it always had been, and Kagami was only further proving the point for him by questioning his authority. Poor boy was digging his own grave by letting his face fall in to a dissatisfied scowl. Madara opened his mouth to deliver a lecture on why exactly he was refusing – even though he knew he owed no explanation for his choices – when he was stopped dead.

With one simple look the entire world as he knew it ceased to exist.

Tobirama was pouting for real this time.

Rather than sticking his lip out so far it was nearly comical, his true pout only barely pressed it out to show off just how plump his thin lips could actually be. His nose, which Madara had never given much thought to before now, scrunched up in distress until it looked like a cute little button that his fingers itched to press. With his eyes half lidded and looking off to the side petulantly, head tilted as just the right angle, and his brows bunched together and raised as though he were inconsolably sad, the image he made was simply too much for Madara’s sanity.

None of the others had been lying, apparently. Senju Tobirama was indeed capable of pouting when he didn’t get his way and it was so heart-wrenchingly adorable that Madara’s brain ceased functioning at a single glance. He could feel his own eyes widening and his breath hitching in his chest while the rest of the world slipped away from his reality.

“Oh,” he whispered softly. “Wow.” He didn’t see Kagami huffing, not having noticed that he was busy trying to ascend on to an astral plane.

“Come on Madara-sama! That’s not fair! Please?”

“Yeah…okay…”

“Wait, really?”

Both Kagami and Tobirama sat up but Madara continued staring at Tobirama, hardly even aware of what it meant that those beautiful red eyes were looking back at him. He understood all the reactions he had seen now, could entirely sympathize with them. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for such an adorable sight as that tiny pouty lip and the picture of disappointed sadness it made, the sheer innocence of that cuteness.

He remained immobile, unable to locate his limbs or even consider moving as his two guests stood up from their seats. Kagami threw both hands up in the air and bounded out of the room with a cry of triumph, thundering towards the front door. Normally Madara would have scolded him for running in the house but the words simply didn’t occur to him in that moment. The only thing his mind could focus on was the memory of the most perfect pout he had ever seen. He had been forever changed by that one image.

Tobirama made his way across the room with measured steps and demurely lowered eyes, a subtle smile hanging about his mouth. As he passed by Madara he paused, leaning over to speak quietly in his ear.

“You have my appreciation for being so…amenable,” he said. Then he turned his head to lay a chaste kiss against Madara’s cheek before suddenly he was gone, down the hallways and out of the home, leaving Madara behind to make a very serious attempt at melting in to his own kitchen floor.

Maybe – _maybe_ – he might have developed a small crush on Tobirama

One thing was for certain, however. It was a damn good thing Tobirama’s pout was rare enough to be passed off as a mere legend or practical joke. Heaven only knew what kind of chaos he could cause if he started whipping that out at every turn. It was already proven that none of the strongest shinobi in the village could resist him when he began to pout; such adorableness would be devastating if he ever decided to weaponize it. Certainly Madara would be among the first to fall if that ever happened. Senju Tobirama was simply too cute for his own good.

And the bastard probably knew it too.


End file.
